Castle walls
by RoseandBrooke
Summary: For a long time now Millie has gotten this idea that I was antisocial, which I am, her 'wonderful' solution to this 'problem' was to send me to live with my uncle and cousin, who by the way live on a reserve a couple miles outside of a little town in Washington called Forks. Seriously, who names a town after a piece of silverware? Okay, I take that back, I would.


_Castle Walls By RoseandBrooke_

* * *

**Disclaimer: RoseandBrooke does not own Twilight**

* * *

**Chapter one-** _Things that I hate which includes Mondays and Airports _

* * *

Before this story begins I would like to tell you dear reader one thing; I do not like Mondays. All of the worst days of my life happened to be on Mondays. It seems like the first day of the week always has it out for me, _always_.

I do not like airports. I could say that I hate airports, but hate is a strong word. My mother, Millie, hated the word hate. She used to say that it was an 'ugly word' only used by people who were 'ugly on the inside'. That used to drive my older sister, Della, crazy.

Actually, everything about Millie used to drive her up the walls. Nine years ago, when Della was old enough she bought an airplane ticket a flew off to god knows where and I haven't heard from her since, hence my hate for airports.

Della and I used to be close. So when she left me at the tender age of six, I childishly blamed the airport, I actually still do. With a mother and father that were never around, Della was the one to take care of me for the first six years of my life. When she left I was devastated, I didn't talk to anyone for two months.

Slowly I learnt how to take care of myself, slowly I learnt how to become independent, which may or may not be a good thing, I also learnt how to become antisocial, which may also be a good or bad thing.

Anyway, back to the topic at hand, I extremely dislike airports and I am stuck in one. My cousin and uncle, who I have never even met or heard of until recently, are late to pick me up from the airport in Seattle.

For a long time now Millie has gotten this idea that I was antisocial, which I am, her '_wonderful'_ solution to this _'problem'_ was to send me to live with my uncle and cousin, who by the way live on a reserve a couple miles outside of a little town in Washington called Forks. Seriously, who names a town after a piece of silverware? Okay, I take that back, I would name a town after a fork; after all it is a very helpful piece of silverware.

So here I am, sitting in airport, one of my least favorite places on earth.

"Are you Elizabeth?"

I spin around to face a man in a wheelchair. The man is heavyset, with a deeply wrinkled face and russet skin and wise black eyes.

"Are you my Uncle Billy, whom I have never met?" I inquire carefully.

The man looked harmless, but you never know with people these days.

The man, who I assume is Billy, nods. "I guess so. Follow me, your cousin Jacob is waiting by the car."

Billy wheels off and I have no choice but to grab my bags and follow him. He leads me out of the airport, thank god, and into the parking lot. Billy stops in front of an old BMW.

A male organism, who looks to be of the age of seventeen give or take a few years, leans up against the motor vehicle. "So this is my younger cousin," He looks me up and down. "Well, it's nice to meet you, I'm Jacob."

Jacob sticks out a very big and meaty hand.

I do not shake it. I just simply brush past him and throw my bags in to the trunk of the BMW. I hop into the back seat of the car and leave a shocked looking Jacob and Billy outside.

"Okay, I see what Millie told us about Elizabeth being unsociable." I hear Billy mutter through the glass.

I rolled my eyes. Geez, what did they expect, for me to be all rainbows and butterflies and that I would prance around them in circles screaming stuff about paranormal teen romances and love triangles?

I take out my iPod, who is also my best friend, and plugged my ear phones into my ears as Billy and Jacob get into the car.

At first they try to make small talk, but soon realize that I'm not listening.

I lost in the songs that are in a constant shuffle on my iPod.

I'm not easily motivated; I had no ambition, desire, drive or determination. Well, there is one exception, that exception is music. When I hear a really good song on the radio it makes me feel like I should be motivated, like I should have some sort of ambition or drive.

I hum the lyric to How to Save a Life as the song changes. I feel at peace, not just because I had just exited the airport, but the music made me think, no, dream about a life where I had some type of motivation, I had a lot of friends, I was content with life, where my parents were home a lot more, where Della was still at home and being the best big sister anyone could ask for.

My delusional fantasies where interrupted by Jacob who pulled my ear phones out of my ears. "We're here; you've been sitting in the car for the past five minutes. I've already taken your stuff up into the attic- I mean your room."

"Thanks." I mutter as I slide out of the car.

How did we get here so fast? Traffic must have been light today.

I stretch and walk over to Jacob and Billy's house feeling like a zombie had just eaten my brain. My limbs felt light and my eyes seemed like they couldn't stay open. To say the least, I didn't get the best sleep on the plane ride up here.

I open the door and sweep past people and head for the nearest bedroom.

"Elizabeth, that's Jacob's bedroom. Your room is up-" Billy's voice is like radio static in my head.

"I don't care." I cut him off as I flop onto the warm bed in the bedroom that I have chosen for my slumber.

Right before I fell asleep I remembered one thing, today was a Monday.


End file.
